Mail Call
by River's Dream
Summary: Rodney's angry, John's happy, the city's under attack again, and a mystery is underfoot. What's going on in Atlantis this week?
1. Chapter 1

*Disclaimer* I do not own Stargate nor any part of this wonderful franchise. If I did it new seasons would still be in production. This is only for entertainment.

Thanks to Sidney James TD Lemon 1900 for their wonderful work as Beta and challenging me to do better. You are amazing.

Lt. Colonel John Sheppard strolled down a Lantean hallway, with a smile on his face and ease in his posture.

Today was a great day. It was one of those picture perfect days that you dreamed of but never expected to actually get to enjoy, at least not on Atlantis. The sky was robin's egg blue, the air was warm but not hot, and there was a slight breeze from the ocean filling the air with a scent that invigorated anybody lucky enough to experience it. As far as John was concerned there was nothing that could make his day better. That's why John also found himself regularly looking over his shoulder. With his luck, there had to be some 'wonderful" new surprise that Pegasus was just waiting to spring at them and, consequently, destroy his wonderful mood.

Now John wouldn't go so far as to call himself a pessimist. He definitely preferred to classify himself under the category of realist, at least when he bothered to classifying himself at all. Experience had simply taught him that between Pegasus and his men's creative outlets, boring wasn't a realistic expectation in life. Sometimes it seemed like the galaxy enjoyed seeing him get injured and having to spend time under guard in the infirmary, or pull his hair out while keeping bored scientists and Marines from blowing themselves up and/or causing permanent harm. (John didn't mind these particular extracurricular pursuits but seriously, if Elizabeth was going to yell at him, shouldn't he at least get to have some fun participating beforehand?)

This past week had been a prime example of Pegasus' relation to Murphy's Law, and John still slightly cringed as he reflected back a week earlier.

The week had started off normally enough. Simple away missions had been planned and executed without complications (apparently miracles did still occur). SGA-3 and SGA-11 had been able to broker much needed trade agreements for fresh food stuffs and support against the Wraith, during their specific missions, while SGA-6 had found some fascinating ruins that warranted extra exploration and the talents of Dr. Kavanaugh for an entire month. Experiments were quietly held throughout the city. Maintenance was run, general city repairs were finished, and the senior staff completed enough paperwork to put the SGC in danger of shock during the next data burst.

To help kill some of the abundant downtime, the Marines had attempted to goad some scientists into a citywide lacrosse tournament, citing intercultural education and inter disciplinary cooperation as the motivation. Surprisingly enough, the Canadian scientists (minus Rodney) had jumped at the chance to spread the love of their second national sport. Carson had spent the rest of his day patching up both sides after the match had been called due to injury. Carson was less than pleased with the participants' necessary occupation of his infirmary (the Canadian scientists, much to the marines surprise, had proven both proficient and vicious during the game) and made his displeasure known as he and his team stitched cuts, reset dislocations, wrapped sprains, and set the odd broken bone.

Yes, all in all it had been a normal, quiet week in Atlantis. What had been abnormal, however, was Rodney. The head scientist had been driving the entire expedition crazy with his high anxiety, low patience, and antsy behaviour all week.

Now John would be the first to admit Rodney's behaviour was often less than welcoming at times but he was just as quick to point out that each behaviour had a clearly defined motivator behind it. There was "highly stressed Rodney" who was often slightly panicked, short tempered and snarky, but as of late also had confidence and an air of expertise. This was the Rodney who appeared during attacks, missions gone wrong, and their general everyday life or death situations. There was also annoyed Rodney. He was full of a superiority which came from explaining something only he could understand, from having been proven right (yet) again, or any circumstances when his intelligence saved the day. The Marines had been rumoured to refer to this as "Default Rodney" but John hadn't been able to find any definitive proof. None of the Marines had been stupid enough to try it within earshot of SGA-1 yet. Finally, there was normal Rodney, who whined and complained but did so out of fear of failure or to show he cared, who laughed and joked with his team, who could hold his own against the odds in situations he had never been trained to handle, and who would risk his own life to save his friends. This was the Rodney his team was most familiar with and John was proud of the ways the scientist has grown in the two years since joining SGA-1.

The Rodney of this week, however, didn't fit into any of the above categories. He was stressed, twitchy, and on guard. Teyla had originally thought that Rodney had become stuck in the middle of the unofficial prank war, rumoured to have started up between the science and medical teams following the now infamous lacrosse game and infirmary stay. John had gone to see if Doctor Beckett had finally enforced the coffee rationing that he had been threatened to Rodney since the expedition's early days. Ronon, on the other hand, just found himself tempted to shoot the annoying scientist. To be honest, John had been sorely tempted to allow Ronon an "accidental stun" when the two of them ended up on the receiving end of an impossible to follow and unprovoked McKay lecture.

After 4 days of patience, gentle questioning, and outright bribery, Rodney still refused to reveal the reasoning for his odd behaviour. Even Elizabeth, for all her patience and diplomacy, was beginning to get annoyed by the scientists' behaviour.

That's why Atlantis considered it a blessing when P7X – M4G, an industrialized planet on par with 1940's earth, had contacted them with a reminder concerning their science conference, set to begin the next morning. Dr. Weir had first been approached by the people of P7X-M4G two months earlier regarding their annual science conference, extending invitations to a Lantean delegation. Dr. Weir had been thrilled. The conference offered the perfect opportunity to strengthen relationships with allied worlds (many would be in attendance) as well as provide some of the science teams a safe opportunity to go off world, lessening their risk of cabin fever.

Unsurprisingly, between the loss of Ford, the arrival of Ronon, the Wraith threat, and day-to-day Lantean life, the invitation had slipped everyone's minds. The reminder and the conference came at the perfect time. Before Rodney knew what was happening, he had been swept away with a team of 5 scientists to a 3 day conference of science, debate, and the local caffeinated brew, much to everyone's relief.

Too bad such things never last.


	2. Chapter 2

*Disclaimer still don't own them*

Thank you, Thank you, Thank you again to Sidney James TD Lemon 1900 for being Beta on this! Mistakes are all me.

Rodney McKay had no more than stepped through the Stargate when Zelenka sighed contentedly. Now, perhaps, he could get some work done.

Radek really did appreciate Rodney. He had even, on occasions when the man and his insufferable ego were absent, admitted his gratitude for McKay's intelligence and aptitude for pulling off the impossible. Radek would also freely admit that he, like virtually everyone else in the city, owed his life to was his colleague, a capable intellectual, and a constant stone on which to sharpen his own skills (and sadly just as hard headed as said stone Radek sighed). However, if he had to spend one more minute with that insufferable . . . . Aw well, perhaps upon Rodney's return, his mood will have improved, and life can begin to return to normal. The Canadian had better have had a good reason for causing such an uproar.

Radek turned the corner and entered the lab his team was currently exploring, pleased to see his team rapidly and contentedly working away. This particular lab had only been reclaimed one month prior, as search teams slowly progressed through the reclamation of the ancient city. Priorities had shifted this lab off the to-do list until yesterday and Radek's team was eager to discover the room's long held secrets

The room itself was large and pristine with light coloured walls and high ceilings, like so many of the ancient's designs. Unlike similar labs, however, this room boasted multiple, central stations arranged in perfect rows, as though the room had been intended to host many workers. Extra stations modelling differing designs formed the room's perimeter. Due to the obvious similarities within the inner stations. Radek's team had decided to begin their search there.

Kyle Larson was new to Atlantis and loving every minute of his new life as a member of the Lantean science division. Fresh from a tour on the Daedalus, Larson had come to realise that he loved the life of adventure the Stargate program offered to all of its members but was far better suited to projects that allowed him to set foot on solid ground more than once a month. Add to that his genius with technology and uncanny knack for understanding alien computer code, and a SGC base seemed the more logical fit for his abilities. As a result he had put in for a transfer to either the SGC or Atlantis. Two weeks ago his dreams were realised as he joined the newest batch of transfers to the Lantean team. If only he could get over the overwhelming intimidation he felt around the other personnel. Honestly, even freshmen year hadn't been this nerve-wracking.

Radek had been pleased with the transfer of Larson to his team. So far, he had proven himself to be a valuable team member with a keen sense of humour and the humility to learn from those around him. Larson could do quite well on Atlantis if he chose to continue applying himself and learned how to complete a full sentence around his superiors without freezing up. Zelenka rolled his eyes and smiled, Dr. McKay would have had the poor boy transferring off world in tears by now. Ah well, Radek knew he had plenty of time to encourage the boy's abilities.

In his eagerness to prove his readiness to his team, Larson had been examining the same console, each shift, since its initialization the day before, desperately anxious to unlock its mysteries before his teammates. He knew with just a little more time and effort he could crack the code and maybe prove that he did indeed belong here. He was so close! Out of the corner of his eye, Larson noticed some random code activating in a separate partition. Deciding to take a closer look, he barely noticed his team mates beginning their afternoon stretch and coffee break.

Radek, however, did notice and eagerly rose from the station he had been working at, pondering his own need for a coffee break. Deciding that coffee would indeed be beneficial to his and his team's efficiency, Radek began to head for the door when out of nowhere, alarms began sounding and the room sealed itself shut.

"Dr. Zelenka?" It was the panicked voice of Larson. "I think I may have triggered something."

Sure enough the screen on Larson's console was flashing red, Ancient text scrolling faster than the present scientists could translate.

"Alright, settle down and think back. Zelenka attempted to soothe the panicked young man "Which is the last item that you activated before all of this began?"

"I, ummm, there was code. There was a random code which had been portioned off from the main system. I was running an analysis. I think the analysis may have triggered and unleashed it, doctor." Larson cringed at the sound of his feeble explanation.

"The fact that it triggered something seems to be obvious Larson, no need to panic just yet. It's not like you blew up a solar system or anything," Zelenka reassured. To be honest, Zelenka was becoming concerned over the turn of events but knew a further panicked team was of no use to anyone.

It appeared that somehow Larson had triggered a citywide lockdown which, if Zelenka remembered correctly, meant the entire city would be isolated, cut-off, and vulnerable to assault. First things first, he had to notify Dr. Weir of the situation.

"Zelenka to Dr. Weir. Hello? Is anyone there?" Zelenka frowned slightly, his radio was dead. "Brierson. Please contact Dr. Weir and inform her of our situation."

Stephanie Brierson attempted to activate her headset "I'm sorry sir, my radio's down as well."

Now Zelenka was concerned. One radio down was an inconvenience; two pointed towards a much larger issue. "Is anybody's radio currently working?"

The remaining scientists checked their radios to no avail. Communications were apparently a non option for Radek's team.

Suddenly, a nervous voice piped up, it was Larson. "Excuse me sir, "Perhaps the city shut down communications as a precautionary measure with the lockdown?"

"It is very unlikely. Although the ancients have proven to be far less logical than we originally assumed, even they saw the value of being able to coordinate during a crises. It appears that we are simply up the creek without a paddle."

"What can we do then, Doctor?"

"What we scientists always do in these situations, Larson," Zelenka offered a small smile laced with determination "Pull out another miracle and fix it."

Unfortunately for Zelenka, this time their miracle would not be nearly as easy to pull off as some of the other saves Atlantis had witnessed in the past. Loathe as he was to admit it, his team felt the absence of McKay keenly. Five hours of jury-rigging and frustration later, his team had finally managed to cobble together communications to a point of minimal functionality, so at least it was something. Radek attempted his headset once again.

"Zelenka to Dr. Weir,"

"This is Dr. Weir. Radek it's good to hear your voice."

"I'll assume that means that you, too, are in lockdown?" Radek sighed. He had hoped the damage was isolated, not city wide.

"Yes, the whole city went into lockdown, approximately five hours ago. We've lost communications and gate travel, the city's in lockdown and to make things more interesting, environmental controls have been going haywire."

"Are you positive?" Radek, accepting the lockdown, had known it was a possibility, but the environmental issues made no sense whatsoever.

"Yes, Zelenka, I'm sure." Elizabeth, while understanding Zelenka's confusion, couldn't hold back an edge of sarcasm. It had been a long five hours attempting to deal with the lockdown's effects. "The nice thing about getting stuck in the gate room, we have sensors allowing us to track environmental issues. Temperatures are up, down, and everywhere in between. Also, if Chuck is right, we have some sections experiencing flooding due to burst pipes, and old fire systems that were yet to be dismantled due to time constraints. We have visible confirmation regarding the gate. As for mobility"

"Of course you only have to walk into a door once. I understand. I'm afraid I have more bad news."

"Of course you do, Radek" Elizabeth sighed, "Let's hear it,"

"My men and I were exploring the newly discovered lab-"

"In the north pier, correct?"

"Yes that is correct. Anyway, I believe we may have accidently triggered the lockdown during our examinations. The timing of events and other evidence seems to fit that hypothesis."

"I'm sure it wasn't intentional, Radek. Okay then, that begs the next questions: how do we fix it and how long until it's done."

"Now that I have access to other systems the scientists and technicians can coordinate a solution. This must be a coordinated effort as the necessary tools and diagnostics are too far apart for one team to 'save the day' so to speak. I would request that all such personnel be given a single radio frequency during the crises so that we may work without interruption or monopolize the air waves. As for an ETA, I'm afraid I cannot deliver such an estimate until I know exactly what we are facing. I am very sorry Elizabeth, but to be honest we are over our heads, especially without Dr. McKay."

"Understood Radek, I know you'll do your best." Elizabeth switched to broadcast. "Attention all personnel. All science members and base technicians are requested to switch their radios to channel 2 for the duration of this lockdown in order to facilitate its rapid resolution. Thank you."

"Good luck" Elizabeth whispered softly and turned back to receive the latest update from the control room.

"Dr. Zelenka?"

"Yes, Larson do you have something already?"

"No sir. It's just, while I was the one who activated the lockdown but you told Dr. Weir-"

"-That it was my fault. Yes, I told her that. You are young and my responsibility. Besides, laying blame merely wastes time. Our focus should be on fixing the problem, no?"

Larson looked wondrously at Zelenka and breathed a sigh of relief "Thank you, Doctor."

"Any time, Larson, but let's try not to make this a habit, alright?"

Larson nodded and went back to work, his dedication renewed now that he was no longer focusing on his guilt.

Radek was feeling much more optimistic now that communications were once again functioning. Before, he and his team weren't just cut off from the city's supplies and resources, but from the expedition's personnel and their wisdom, a far more valuable asset. The ability to brainstorm with his colleagues while utilizing the vastly improved combined resources of their collective temporary prisons (many had been working when the lockdown occurred) meant that now they stood a fighting chance.

Even so(,) Radek knew the fight would not be easy(.)(T)hey still had no clue what was causing their issues. Realizing that the solution may still be a fair distance in the future(,) Radek consulted with Colonel Sheppard who together decided to split the scientists into teams. This way one team was always resting while the other worked and progress could, theoretically, continue round the clock. For his own team, Zelenka made Briarson his second and sent the exhausted woman to the corner to rest before her shift in four hours. Radek knew she had a good head on her shoulders and a thorough grasp of ancient tech, making her the perfect choice.

Sheppard and Zelenka's decision was proven all the wiser when eight hours later the team (consisting now of multiple labs linked through a now far more functional communications system) discovered the true culprit behind their problems. To say they were not impressed was an understatement. On the bright side, Radek thought, At least they now knew the room's intended purpose.

Radek and his team were trapped in the Lantean equivalent to a high school/ college prep classroom. The neatly spaced central consoles had, at one point in history, functioned as student workstations. The outer console ring, on the other hand, had been teaching resources, teaching models, and the professor's personal workstation.

It turned out that Larson had uncovered a damaged virus program created by a Lantean student thousands of years earlier. Originally intended as a teenager's prank to scatter the city's environmental controls: 10 000 years, a damaged, unmaintained city, and corrupted data had resulted in the virus having unintended consequences. The corrupted data had resulted in dangerous, rather than humorous, deviations and Atlantis' computers read the program as foe not friend, inducing the, thus far 13 hour, lockdown. Radek couldn't help but think of Rodney's boasts regarding a 6th grade a-bomb and wondered if the two would have gotten along had they lived in the same time period. Radek shuttered at the thought.

Radek had to admit that _if_ Atlantis had been maintained, _if_ they had Lanteans around who knew and could fully operate her systems, _if_ they had ample, unlimited power, and access to the program's creator, the joke would have been quite funny, just as originally intended. People would have gotten hot, cold, or wet and then it was over. However, now, rather than a joke, they faced a potentially life-threatening problem and their most qualified Lantean expert was trapped off world! That left a group of tired, overwhelmed, scientists to fix the problem against the odds. No wonder Zelenka never joined in the city's prank wars. Pranks only cause trouble and to top it all off, Zelenka thought sadly, he never did get his coffee.

Over the next 11 hours, Zelenka, Briarson, Chuck, Larson, and dozens of other techs/scientists/ Marines all pitched in searching for a solution. At any given time, the various rooms were filled with different people either trading off between sleep, repairing damage, hunting down the virus' mutations or writing new a code, each scientist collaborating haphazardly through the city's newly restored communications and computer networks.

Zelenka had found himself choking back a few choice curses from his childhood when he first realised the virus had a primitive adapting nature. Eventually, however, their hard work paid off and 24 hours after its initialization, to everyone's great relief, the crises was over.

Once the lockdown was officially over and the computers purged of the virus, everyone who had been stuck in their quarters during the duration were ordered to grab a quick meal and report to their departmental head for damage control assignments. Alternatively, the weary scientists quietly closed up their workstations, saved their data for analysis, and went for a well deserved shower and nap.

From her vantage point in the control room, Elizabeth surveyed the Lantean aftermath with a sigh. What a mess! Although the lockdown had merely left the city isolated and vulnerable (easily remedied through sensor scans, off world check ins, and a security sweep lead by Sheppard and Bates), the environmental aspect of the virus had wrecked a havoc upon them that would take the better part of two days to finish repairing.

Puddles and outright flooding were evident in areas where pipes had burst and old systems faltered. Ice damage was present in sections where temperatures had dropped below freezing due to overactive a/c, and Carson's infirmary was filled to the brim with embarrassed wounded. As expedition members began to come down off their emergency driven adrenalin rushes, the infirmary had seen a growing number of cases involving exhaustion, dehydration, mild hypothermia, heat related illness, common colds, and sprained limbs due to ice and water mishaps. Even poor Kyle Larson had made an appearance only to be transferred to Dr. Heightmeyer in the hopes she could help the boy overcome his resurging guilt at having managed to put the city into lockdown on his second week there.

That was last week though, John recalled, as he strolled through the city noting Elizabeth and Zelenka going over progress reports in her office. The city hadn't been discovered, the away teams were all safely recalled (even Rodney who was still in a complete state, much to John frustration), Atlantis was recovering, and the personnel were safe (although some were rather unhappy at the colds they caught during the crises).

Yes, their troubles were once again behind them and John . . . John was happy. Why was John so happy? Because even though McKay was still a grouch for reasons unknown, even though his city had been attacked by the science project from hell, they had survived. Atlantis was in one piece, ready to fight another day. Best of all though, today was mail call and John had a package!


	3. Chapter 3

*Disclaimer – see chapter one, sadly nothing has changed*

A.N. Three cheers for Sydney James one of the most dedicated beta's I know, enjoy your coffee you are amazing!  
If you like my characterizations, hop on over to my profile and check out _Chasing Hope_, it's my first story written entirely (so including rough ideas) since meeting all of you wonderful people.

Yes, at long last, Atlantis had actual, physical mail.

Mail was something of a rarity for those living in the Lantean city. Obviously the Daedalus could only fit so much into her holds and priority, logically, went to medicines, technology, spare parts, and miscellaneous items which were not easily obtained in Pegasus (like McKay's coffee, Dr. Weir's chocolate and Teyla's popcorn). In light of the fact that it was now November, and the Daedalus could not return until the new year (Hermiod was surprisingly unhappy when his engines were pushed beyond their proper operating parameters) the SGC had taken extra care to ensure as many Christmas parcels as possible made their way into the hold.

John had another reason to be excited though, as a general rule his team simply did not get mail, period. With Teyla and Ronon being Pegasus natives, there really wasn't anyone on Earth to send them packages. Teyla received the occasional present from her people, but those were easily picked up during trips to the mainland and therefore an entirely different matter.

With Rodney, before this year, the team didn't even know he had a sister and judging from the stories they had heard from SG-1 (General O'Neil was a wealth of knowledge when you asked the right questions), John was guessing that there weren't many people from Rodney's earlier years willing to go through the trouble of getting something through all the red tape that came with classified inter-galactic mail.

As for himself, John really didn't have anyone either. His friends were either on base, dead, or had fallen away. His father had disowned him and his brother, well, John wasn't sure if the man would give him a glass of water if he was dying of thirst. So many bridges burnt, so many people he had failed.

When he had first joined the Air Force, he used to get letters and packages from his old youth pastor, Mike. Growing up John was never sure about faith, religion, or all that stuff but Mike had given him a chance to get out of his house, away from his father and find someone who actually cared enough to listen, no matter what John had thrown at him. John smiled to himself as he thought of all the times he had cussed Mike out, only for Mike to have sat there and take it, knowing that the teen had just needed somewhere to let out his pain.

Mike had even taken John under his wing, letting him come over and spend time with his young family. Mike was an aviator mechanic in "his other life" as he jokingly called his full time job. John had spent many happy weekends helping Mike put together plane engines, learning their inner workings over lemonade and laughter.

Sadly, Mike had been killed by a drunk driver 5 years earlier. John had just gotten back from his ill fated mission in Afghanistan and was recovering in hospital when Mike's widow, Anna, made sure to get him the word.

John had been thoroughly reprimanded afterwards but had still managed to successfully sneak out of his hospital ward and make it to the funeral. He was grateful he had been able to say goodbye to the man he had regarded as an older brother.

Life wasn't fair sometimes. Mike never hurt anyone, probably had saved lives with the way he listened to kids stories and helped them find their way. Yet, there he had been, dead. Anna was a widow, and his teen sons Josh and Travis would never get to have their dad around for those high school years like John had been so thankful to experience. Man, life just didn't make sense sometimes. At least, that what personal experience taught him.

John's trip down memory lane was abruptly ended when the Lieutenant Colonel accidently found himself colliding, full tilt, with a young second lieutenant who had been given mop duty. Apologizing quickly, John grinned and set off towards the mess. With everyone either estranged or dead, who had taken pity and sent his team a care package?

Entering the mess, 20 minutes late no less, John was not surprised to see Teyla anxiously awaiting his arrival. It was after all a special occasion for her too and her curiosity was evident for all to see. Ronon, completely oblivious to her impatience, was happily packing away another helping of the noonday meal, complete with freshly delivered blue jello. John caught their attention with a wave and made his way over.

"John" Teyla exclaimed speaking more rapidly than usual "Are you alright? Did something come up? You said you would be in the mess before ourselves and we have been here long enough for Ronon to have already secured second helpings of the daily specials."

"I got distracted," John really didn't feel like sharing his trip down memory lane, even with Teyla and Ronon. "Kinda ran into a maintenance team, literally, sorry," he replied sheepishly.

Teyla laughed. "I suppose everyone should be given some grace, was the team alright?"

"Yeah, my pride was the worst casualty," John winced good naturedly.

"I am sure it will recover. Now that you are here, can we open up our parcel?" John swore this was the closest he had ever seen Teyla to giddy. Seeing as it was her first piece of mail, he couldn't blame her.

"I think we can manage that. Ronon will you do the honours? Something tells me you might have a knife on you."

All of a sudden, Teyla froze thoughtfully "Are you sure we should not wait for Rodney? After all, the parcel is from Mrs. Miller."

John paused and looked over, sure enough the mystery package was from Jeannie Miller, Rodney's little sister.

After her brief excursion to Atlantis as a consultant, Rodney and Jeannie had made good on their promise to work on rebuilding their damaged relationship. Halfway, however, didn't appear to be in either McKay's vocabulary. Jeannie was slowly but steadily adopting all of Rodney's teammates as extended family, having already sent John the occasional letter and now a Christmas care package for the team.

John paused. "At this point Rodney is holed up so deep, I don't think Atlantis would tell me where he's hiding without a bit of wheedling, which let's be honest, isn't at the top of my current priorities. I swear, I don't know what's gotten into McKay but he better snap out of it soon. He's driving me crazy and with the science/ medic prank war on-going I don't have a lot of sanity left to go around. Besides the package is clearly labelled for the three of us, Rodney must have gotten his own. Brother privileges or something," John reasoned.

"That does seem logical. Ronan you may continue."

Ronan shrugged, grabbed his knife, and sliced open the box. Teyla reached around and fished out a letter lightly nestled on top. John looked questioningly at her questioningly and Teyla began to read aloud:

_Dear John, Teyla, and Ronon,_

_Early Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and congrats on still being alive (I may not have total clearance but seriously you guys seem to have a lot of missions that end with a trip to the infirmary. I'm sure you guys can find an easier way to hang out with Carson.)  
Anyways, hope life out there is treating you well. No more cross reality incidents, major wars, or wayward brothers blowing up solar systems. So if I've estimated my time correctly, Rodney's probably been stressing you out more than normal for umm let's say minimum of one week, maximum of two, and is refusing to tell you why. If not, well, maybe I'm the one in for a shock. I guess anyone can change and just disregard my last train of thought _

_Well ( for the purposes of this letter, let's assume he's been a pain) this box contains the official Rodney McKay survival guide to help you through these troubled times 'cause if I'm right (and boy do I hope I am) it's going to get worse before it gets better. Sorry, it's the little sister in me, nothing personal.  
This box is filled with goodies sure to cure anyone suffering from PMS (Post- Meredith Syndrome)._

_All joking aside, you three please stay safe and keep an eye on Mer for me? I consider you all family now and I would like you all to stay in one piece if at all possible (John, that means you too, Mer told me quite the stories after my last visit.) If you ever get to Earth you've got to come by and meet the family. Ronon, I know you and Madison would get along amazingly well!_

_Talk to you soon_

_Jeannie Miller _

_P.S. This should arrive the same day Rodney gets a communication from me. If he comes out of his room and is back to normal, again, don't worry everything is over. If he goes into hiding could you please go ask him, demand an answer, it's an old McKay tradition and it would be sad to let it fall due to distance._

Teyla, Ronan, and John all looked at each other confused. John knew that Rodney had indeed gotten a communication that morning instigating his most recent retreat. Maybe there was something in this worth investigating. Teyla, on the other hand, sighed to herself softly wondering, once again, if she had joined a military expedition or a babysitting service. Ronan, for his part, sat and smirked.

By mutual decision, Teyla was chosen to begin digging into the mysterious box, delighted to find an assortment of citrus flavoured treats, lemonade powder, lemon squares, and a variety of Christmas candies and baked goods the team had never even dreamed existed but knew they would enjoy testing at the next team movie night. Ronan's personal favourite were the chocolate oranges which combined his two favourite things of chocolate and violence. Once John had finally stopped laughing, he quickly explained to Ronon that you smashed the orange off a table or hard surface, not a scientist (Ronon had been eyeing up Kavanaugh rather eagerly) much to the relief of all nearby personal who had been eyeing up the door with a similar eagerness.

It wasn't until Teyla reached the end of the parcel that the team found their most recent mystery deepening. Stuffed in the corner, at the very bottom of the box, however, was an item that caused all three to stare at each other in confusion.

There, in the corner of the box, was a small teddy bear wearing in a green jersey with a white S boldly emblazoned in the centre. Teyla removed it with a smile and gave it a hug, apparently some things are universal.

"John?" Teyla queried with a fond look on her face "What is the significance of toy's clothing?"

"It's a jersey. Umm, a type of uniform worn by sports teams back on Earth. This one seems to be for the Canadian version of football, if I remember rightly. I don't exactly follow that particular . . . 'sport' though."

"Ah, yes," Teyla said with a smirk "I believe you said you preferred 'real sports'?'

"Umm yeah." John nervously ran his hand through his hair, noting the table full of Canadian technicians behind him. After witnessing their performance in the recent lacrosse match, these were people he seriously didn't want to tick off.

Witnessing his discomfort, one of the technicians, still recovering from the aforementioned game, limped over on her crutches and decided to help out. "Excuse me, sir?"

Teyla, not wanting her team leader to dig himself any deeper, quickly decided to intervene. "Yes, Doctor? Perhaps you could aid us in discovering this bear's significance?"

"Of course ma'am, I thought judging by your expression you might be confused. That would be a Saskatchewan Roughriders bear. They're the CFL (Canadian Football League) Team based out of Regina, Saskatchewan and if my data burst 2 weeks ago was correct, one of the two teams which played in the Grey Cup last weekend. That would be our 'fake' sport's equivalent of the Super Bowl for you, sir," she replied sarcastically, looking at Shepherd "I was actually on my way upstairs to see if I had gotten a message from Earth in this week's data burst with the game's score." She blushed heavily "I'm from Saskatchewan, been a loyal Rider fan since birth."

"Thank you doctor."

"Anytime Ma'am. Oh, Specialist Dex?"

Ronon jumped at his sudden interjection to the conversation "Yeah,"

"I've been told that, on behalf of the Canadian contingent, you are more than welcome to join us for lacrosse anytime sir," and with a smile the young women limped off to check her messages.

"It's a football toy, a Canadian football toy?" John said incredulously

"Looks like it," Ronon responded. "How long do you think it will take for the lacrosse teams to heal?" A feral grin on his face at the idea of joining a rematch.

"Ronon!" Teyla admonished

"Only a question," though Ronon did have the intelligence to look properly chastised, even he didn't want to face an irate Teyla during Bantos practice and the women had a very long memory.

"So let's get this straight, we have a cryptic letter, the type of which could only be written by a sibling who has something on their big brother and knows it, a cranky Rodney for absolutely no logical reason, and a Canadian football toy?"

"And chocolate oranges," Ronon added smashing another one off the table, while eyeing up Kavanaugh.

Teyla pondered their scant, odd clues "We also have directions from Jennie that may be helpful, although, personally, I believe that any attempt to follow through on such directives may involve us deeper in sibling rivalry than we may wish."

"That's right" John realised smiling fiercely, ignoring Teyla's warning in his growing excitement. "She did mention something regarding our favourite scientist and the answers we need. I, for one, think it's about time we get that answers. The base can't survive Rodney's reign of terror much longer. I caught new transfers crying yesterday! Crying! These people can stoically face down the Wraith and McKay sends them to tears. We're getting to the bottom of this. Now!"


	4. Chapter 4

*Disclaimer- still don't own them, please don't hurt me*

Rodney McKay sat stiffly at his recently acquired desk in the abandoned laboratory. He was watching the video message Jeannie had sent in today's data burst, with silent disbelief, for the tenth time. Almost willing the information before him, his sister's painstakingly detailed message, to somehow alter before his eyes and grant him the relief he so desperately sought.

He just couldn't understand. His math had failed. Logic and reason had been swept aside like they had never existed. The first time, the only time, he takes a risk of this nature and he finds himself sitting in total failure . . . again. How could this have happened? How could he have been so wrong? Rodney began to frantically rerun his equations yet again, his fingers flying over the keyboard, incapable of grasping that his meticulously created scientific method had failed.

Meanwhile, John, Teyla, and Ronon were quickly making their way towards the same abandoned lab in which McKay had been revealed to be hiding. Frustrated at the lack of answers and tired of the pitifully fearful looks from McKay's underlings, John had cajoled Atlantis into exposing Rodney's location. Surprisingly, Atlantis had been quite willing to give up the hideaway with only minimal effort. John personally wondered if, perhaps, Atlantis was just as fed up with McKay's attitude as the rest of the city's occupants.

Arriving in front of the lab's sealed door, John activated his headset, switched into command mode, "McKay, open the door."

"Go away, and leave me alone, Colonel"

"Can't do that Rodney, I've got Teyla and Ronon here and we want to have a little chat. We even brought fresh coffee," John wheedled. Teyla looked down at the mug in her hand that Ronon had thought to bring. She still couldn't believe the power this small non-alcoholic drink had over the expedition.

"I came down here because I wanted to be alone, isolated, inaccessible. Is that so hard for your remaining brain cells to comprehend?" Oh yeah, John thought, Rodney was definitely on the defensive and was that embarrassment he heard underneath the scientist's tone? The good doctor had a definite edge to his voice either way.

"Yes Rodney, it is _that_ hard for my 'remaining brain cells' to comprehend," John stopped to rub the back of his neck. Had McKay always been this annoying or had he recently achieved a new level of irritation? "I have a hard time comprehending any actions that make new recruits prefer scouting potentially Wraith infested planets over working in your lab. Believe it or not, we are your friends and would really like to help you. If you'd let go of your damnable pride and let us in!"

Teyla cocked her hand at John's tirade, eyebrow arched questioningly, as she pondered John's mental status. Ronon, holding back laughter, looked tempted to congratulate Shepherd for finally verbalizing what the base had been thinking and didn't have the guts to say to the temperamental scientist. John, for his part, couldn't believe that the most emotionally charged conversation he was having this week was to a solid metal door. He found himself sorely tempted to start banging his head off of the cool, smooth, and oh so inviting surface. Out of the blue, a spark began to light up John's face, as he slowly broke out into an ear to ear grin.

"Try as hard as you like Colonel. I placed this lab under an encryption so challenging, even I would have trouble –" Rodney stopped mid-sentence, his face frozen in shock, as the lab doors whooshed open. There before him stood Ronon, Teyla, and John who was proudly smirking at having rendered McKay speechless. "How, how did you . . ."

"Supergene" John shrugged in easy nonchalance, as though overriding Rodney's encryption were as common as thinking or breathing (which, thanks to John's connection with Atlantis, it had actually been that simple.)

Rodney jumped up from his chair and began pacing. "I can't believe you just did that. You would actually sink so low as to make Atlantis do your dirty work for you?"

Now it was Ronon's turn to raise an eyebrow in surprise, "Stop whining, little man."

"Little man? You have no clue about anything Conan!" With that, Rodney's entire body sagged back into the closest chair, his entire posture screaming out embarrassment and exhaustion.

"Course I don't."

Rodney's head snapped up "Wah? You're actually admitting that I'm right and you are uninformed?"

"How are we, your team, supposed to know what's going on when you're too fidgety and embarrassed to tell us anything? Thought you guys kept saying team's stuck together, or was that just talk?" Ronon tossed back, his eyes darkening

Now it was John's turn to raise an eyebrow in surprise (apparently the gesture was contagious). He had never heard Ronon string so many words together without grunting or adding audible pauses.

Sensing the shift in the conversation, Teyla choose to add her own thoughts, quietly manoeuvring so that she was facing Rodney and could maintain eye contact. "We are already aware that your problem involves a childhood competition with your sister, Dr. McKay. Perhaps if you allowed us access to the rest of the details, we may be able to assist you. We are your friends Rodney and have missed your companionship this past week. We would very much like to see you return to us as that friend once again."

"Question," it was John, faced scrunched in confusion. "How exactly did we know all that again?" Ronon wrinkled his brow in agreement. He didn't remember anything like that in Jeannie's letter.

"Mrs. Miller's letter was quite specific that Rodney's behaviour was due to a family tradition, the most recent recurrence of which resulted in her preferences achieving a better outcome than Dr. McKay's."

John, Ronon, and Rodney stared at Teyla, jaws dropped and eyes wide. She was able to get all of that out of a single page letter?

Teyla's eyes began to sparkle as she attempted to restrain her mirth at their surprise. Innocently she added,"Perhaps it was just woman's intuition?"

"We'll just leave it at that then," John said, smiling, and ending the line of discussion. He wasn't stupid enough to get into a debate when women's intuition was on the line. "So Rodney, are you going to let us help you? Be the friends you told us we were? I mean we fight the Wraith together. Are you telling me your secret's worse than the kind of stuff we face out here every day?"

"Promise you won't laugh? I mean, not even when you leave the room and I'm not around, you won't laugh?" Rodney's eyes darted furiously between the three, never resting on a face for more than a moment.

"We would do nothing to intentionally cause you pain, Rodney. Surely you already know this," Teyla gently placed her hand over McKay's.

Rodney considered Teyla's words, inhaled deeply and began "When I was younger, hard as it is to believe, I was teased . . .a fair bit, Jeannie did a little better than I did, but we still weren't exactly cut out for small town life in Alberta, that's the province I grew up in you know. Mmmm, they did have good steaks there. I could go for a steak right now." Rodney was trailing off.

"Rodney?"

"Right, sorry, anyway, my father suggested that Jeannie and I pick a topic or hobby that was popular among our peer group. I assume he hoped it would provide a common point of interest on which to base our peer interactions or at least give Jeannie and I something we could share together. The problem was in my town there were only two things all the kids talked about hockey – "

"You hate hockey," Ronon interrupted wrinkling his nose. Ronon actually quite enjoyed the sport and couldn't see why McKay didn't appreciate the activity which created so much pride among his countrymen.

"Yes, I do. Sitting in a freezing rink watching a black disc get passed from one stick to another, is not exactly my idea of fun. So I choose to follow the other town pastime."

"Which was…" John asked leaning forward on the stool he had commandeered from a small storage closet in the lab's corner.

"The CFL."

"The Canadian Football League," Teyla chimed, pleased that she at least understood the basics of the sport thanks to John's obsession with the American version.

"That's right," John added, "Hey, didn't they have a Super Bowl or Silver Cup thingy going on recently?" John was getting a sinking suspicion as Rodney spoke. The clues added up, everything fit, but McKay wouldn't do all of this to the city for something that trivial, would he? John rubbed his temples as he felt a headache begin to build.

"The Grey Cup, and yes they did, as a matter of fact."

"Oh no, McKay do not tell me. You didn't…you wouldn't. I can't believe you!" John had jumped to his feet, running his hands frantically through his hair. Ronon sat up in response, hoping excited at the changing tone (heart to hearts would never be Ronon's specialty as far as he was concerned), while Teyla looked on, face wrinkled with confusion at John's sudden outburst.

"Didn't what, Colonel?" McKay answered in a small voice.

"All of this. The attitude, the tension, having to ship you off world, leaving us down our top ancient expert during a citywide crisis, you know, your little reign of terror. Do not tell me, that this is because your favourite team lost some championship to your sister's favourite team!" John shouted in agitation.

"Well it isn't fair! According to statistics my Lions should have won. I did the math, I weighed the odds, Jeannie chose the Riders because she thought their uniforms were cute and was too loyal to change her mind! The Lions were the stronger team and yet Jeannie's Riders somehow managed to beat them beat them. "

"Beat them?" Ronon cocked his head to the side, staring McKay down in growing amusement.

"Okay thrashed them; the Lions may have well just stayed home for all the good it did them. Now I have to listen to Jeannie brag for a whole year about her beloved Rider's."

Now it was Teyla's turn to look miffed. "You mean to say that all your recent behaviour was due to a football rivalry between you and your sister's favourite teams? We put up with all of that . . . drama? Is that the right word?" She looked to John for reassurance, who nodded, "because of a game?"

"We take sports very seriously in Canada, all of our aggression has to go somewhere," Rodney answered, feebly shrugging his shoulders and backing away from the trio.

"Rodney you made some of the new transfers cry and those weren't even the ones assigned to you!" John barked, of all the things, John closed his eyes and wondered if he would find himself waking up from a long bad dream when he reopened them. Nope, no such luck, this was actually happening.

"Okay so maybe I went a bit . . . overboard. It's just, when Jeannie told me the Lion's were playing the Riders in the championships , it felt like before. Before Jeannie and I stopped talking, before our fight, before I pushed her away from me." Rodney's face was a picture of misery. "You know the day before I walked out of her life we had actually spent the afternoon watching the Grey Cup. Hamilton played Calgary. Jeannie and I couldn't stand either team but we watched because it was the Grey Cup, because it was one of the few things we did together. Do you know what it meant to have an entire afternoon of laughing, joking, and throwing popcorn at the TV screen together? It's one of the best memories I have with Jeannie. The next day she told me the English Major had gotten her pregnant and well you know the rest."

The team nodded silently, they all remembered the events surrounding Jeannie's visit and McKay's reaction.

Rodney continued, "When I got her letter saying both our teams were playing, I just went back to that time with its memories and behaviours. I wanted to go back to that place where Jeannie and I were family, not strangers trying to learn about each other. I forgot about all the growth that meant discarding, everything I have learned since joining the Stargate program. To be honest, I didn't even realise I was that bad until I went to the conference and heard the other talking. By then I was so worked up I didn't know how to get back down."

"Why didn't you come to one of us for help?" Teyla asked softly.

"I was embarrassed. I know I may screw up occasionally but to be taken down by a family feud over a Neanderthalic activity like football, all in the vain attempt to recapture a moment in my life, long gone. How pathetic can a person possibly get? Not to mention that, in the process, I forgot and alienated about my current family. I'm a complete idiot!"

"Your motives are . . . understandable Rodney," Teyla spoke slowly as though weighing each word for accuracy "You wished to recapture a time when you and your sister were close. You wanted to regain that closeness with your blood kin. That is a noble sentiment. However, in the process you are correct; you have managed to hurt many people."

"So how do I fix this?"

"Apologizing is usually a good place to start," John piped up, smiling with a tentative camaraderie. "Let's be honest McKay, you ticked a lot of people off who, together, can mess with Atlantis just as well as you. Not a comforting thought. An apology would be a good way to let those people know that things have changed. Atlantis would really prefer people didn't alter her systems for a prank war and we'd prefer you in one piece for tomorrow's mission."

"Apologize, umm, are you sure that's absolutely necessary?"

"McKay…" Ronon growled

"Right, start with an apology, understood."

"Second, I'd do something nice for Zelenka; he's been running a lot of interference for you within the local scientific community. I don't think the department would have survived the past week without his peace keeping skills."

"Jeannie sent me some fair trade coffee she picked up on a trip to Kelowna of all places. I may have heard Radek's muttering about never getting any coffee lately. I suppose it couldn't hurt to give him some."

"Third, watch your mouth for the next week or two, it will probably take a minimum of that long for everyone to calm down. Please, thank you, and acknowledging a job well done is remarkably successful at helping interpersonal relationships. If nothing else it should send them into enough of a shock that you'll be safe from any delayed retaliation."

"Since when do I ever run off at the mouth, if those ignoramuses can't keep up with a good debate . . ." Rodney trailed off at Teyla's reproachfully stare. "Right, I hear vows of silence are all the rage right now anyway."

"Fourth, you can join us for dinner and a movie. We've missed you Rodney."

"You really still want me around? After everything I've done? You're sure you don't want a couple of days to calm down, let the past become the past?"

"Well, I still might want to shoot you," Ronon smiled.

"Of course we want you around Rodney," Teyla slid in gracefully, then smirking "You're just not allowed to select tonight's movie, nor take any of my popcorn," she added playfully.

"And you may be faced with some inevitable teasing about you recent decision making process. I mean com'on the Lions; seriously, they got beat by a team your sister chose because of prettier uniforms?"

"I did the initial research; they appeared to be a sure bet."

"You need to learn more about sports McKay; hmmm, maybe we can watch a sports movie." John mused.

"Nothing girly like that swimming thing or the dancing on ice," Ronon warned.

"Your world has a sport where people dance upon the ice?" Teyla's eyes grew wide as though attempting to visualise the image.

"Well," John drawled "I wouldn't call it a real sport. It's kind of like the CFL," he poked, glancing sideways at Rodney.

"I'll have you know that Canadian football is indeed a real sport. Why, when the league was first established . . ."

With Ronon and Teyla's laughter drowning out McKay's explanation, the team exited the lab, beginning their walk to supper in companionable laughter, well on the road to reconciliation.

Early the next morning

Radek Zelenka sat upon his lab's balcony, happily sipping a hot mug of fair trade Kelownan coffee and going over the most recent departmental reports. Across the balcony he watched the Lantean sky, ablaze in fiery oranges and pinks, the warmth of a new day spreading across his face. Eagerly inhaling the rising steam from his fresh brew, Radek considered taking a cup down to Larson later that day as a little pick me up. The young man was recovering from last week's incident well, thanks Drs Heightmeyer and Beckett's skilled support, but everyone needed a little encouragement now and then and, as far as Radek was concerned, this coffee could encourage anyone. Deciding that he would indeed take a cup down to the young man after breakfast, Radek settled back into his chair, took a long sip of his coffee, and smiled. Today was going to be a good day.

**Final A.N.**

For, any CFL purists, I know those teams would not play each other in the Cup. However, this is fiction, Jeannie is so the right personality to cheer the Riders, and who doesn't love some Lions whump? Besides if I can make Rodney part with coffee I can do anything :D Mwahaha.

To all who read:

Thank you to all who stuck with me for my first multi chapter story ever, your reviews were so kind. You make me want to keep writing, and continue to improve my storytelling.

Finally . . .

A thousand thank you's to Sidney James for teaching me about comma's and their proper function in society. I couldn't have done this without you.


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